


Bad Omens

by redundant_angel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bad omens, Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Superstition, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redundant_angel/pseuds/redundant_angel
Summary: For the weekly prompt: Bad OmensAfter a string of bad omens, Aziraphale worries that a spot of bad luck may be heading his way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 81
Collections: Break in Case of Emergency: Fluff and Love, Week 5: Bad Omens





	Bad Omens

Aziraphale’s morning had begun uneventfully, just as any other, but that was all about to change. The angel awoke in his favorite reading chair with a book on his lap, having dozed off at some point during the night. He got up, stretched the kinks out of his back, and walked to the front door to draw the blinds and collect the newspaper. The sky was angry and dark, and a few rain drops began to fall.  
  
That’s when he noticed the first bad omen. Not one, but two black cats, crossing the pavement in front of his shop.  
  
“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale muttered to himself.  
  
He loved animals but it was well known that having a black cat cross your path was meant to be bad luck, and here there were two. Of course, the angel didn’t really believe in such nonsense. At least, he hadn’t before the apocalypse. Nowadays, one really couldn’t be too careful.  
  
Shaking it off, the angel closed the door and puttered into his kitchen. He put the kettle on for tea and set about frying a couple of eggs for breakfast, along with a slice of toast. The moment he reached for the saltshaker, the lid fell right off and salt spilt all across the stovetop and his breakfast.  
  
“Oh, drat!” Aziraphale said crossly. He realized with a pang of dread that spilling salt was another common bad omen. _Two in one morning, that can’t be good_ , he thought. Still, it was most likely a coincidence and nothing to worry about. At least his tea wasn’t spoiled. He finished making his tea and reached for the newspaper. His mouth fell open as he noticed the date. Today was Friday the 13th. Well. His Friday the 13th was most certainly _not_ off to a good start. Probably best to just lay low and stay home, where nothing overly dreadful could happen.

The angel spent the rest of the morning tidying up, rearranging his books and dusting the shelves. He was right in the middle of dusting off an antique mirror when his phone rang. Already on edge, the angel jumped at the sound and knocked the mirror clean off the wall. It fell to the floor and smashed. Aziraphale gazed wide-eyed at his astonished reflection in the shattered mirror.

 _Oh dear, oh dear, this is not good at all_ , he thought miserably. He managed to reach the phone by the sixth ring. It was Crowley. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief at hearing his voice.

“Crowley, my dear. How are you? Nothing, uh, out of the ordinary for you today?”

“I’m fine, angel. Just woke up. We still on for lunch today?”

Aziraphale realized he had completely forgotten their plans. “Oh, right. Lunch. Um, well… you see…”

“Aziraphale, are you alright? You sound spooked.”

“Well, to be honest, Crowley. I’ve already been the recipient of several bad omens today.”

“Bad omens?” repeated Crowley.

Aziraphale filled Crowley in on the details of the two black cats, the salt, and now the broken mirror. Oh, _and_ the fact that it was Friday the 13th.

“You can’t be serious,” laughed the demon. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you? It was the humans who made it all up. It’s nothing but superstition.”

“So nothing to worry about then, I suppose,” said Aziraphale, rather unconvinced.

“If Death shows up on your doorstep, then you might have reason to worry.”

“Very funny,” Aziraphale replied, slightly embarrassed. “But if it’s all the same to you, Crowley, perhaps it would be wise to stay inside today, so as not to tempt the fates any further.”

“Tempt the fates. Right. Well, another time then, angel?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied and hung up the phone. Maybe Crowley was right and he was overreacting. Then again… 

Lightening flashed outside his window. A downpour had started. Aziraphale closed the blinds, put the closed sign up and locked his shop. He couldn't shake the feel that something bad was on its way.

Thirty minutes later there was a loud knock on the bookshop door. Aziraphale froze, his cup of tea left in stasis halfway to his lips. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Perhaps if he didn’t answer the door, the unexpected caller would go away? There was another knock, even louder this time. Aziraphale sighed. He put his tea down and hesitantly made his way to the front door, fully expecting to find something evil on his doorstep.

Whether the person Aziraphale found could be considered evil would rather depend on your definition of the word. There in the pouring rain stood Crowley, his collar turned up as he shivered underneath a black umbrella. He flashed a grin at the angel.

“Hey, angel. Alright if come in?”

Aziraphale couldn’t deny how happy he was to see the demon. “Yes, of course, dear. But make sure you close that first.” He nodded at the umbrella.

Crowley raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. He hung up his coat and followed the angel inside.

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m sorry for cancelling our plans, Crowley. I know you think I’m being silly.”

“You, silly?” Crowley shook his head. “Nah.”

Aziraphale smiled coyly at him. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Crowley grinned. “I brought something for you.”

“Oh?”

The demon reached behind his back and held out a small box to Aziraphale. Flustered, the angel took it from him and opened the lid. Inside the box was a tiny flowerpot which held the most perfect four-leaf clover that Aziraphale had ever seen.

“I grew it just for you, angel,” said Crowley. “I’ve heard that four-leaf clovers are meant to bring good luck, and you seemed like you could use some right about now.”

Aziraphale beamed at Crowley. All his worries seemed to vanish in an instant. “Why, thank you dear. That is very, very thoughtful of you.” He leaned over and kissed the demon on the cheek.

Crowley blushed, the tops of his ears turning a perky shade of red. “Seems like it’s working already,” he mumbled.

Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice as he wandered away and placed the clover on the windowsill.

The demon kept Aziraphale company at the bookshop for the rest of the day and into evening, until the clock struck midnight, heralding the end of Friday the 13th. Not a single bad omen appeared during that time, and Aziraphale decided to chalk it up to the four-leaf clover that Crowley had brought him. He could tell that Crowley had been humoring him, but it was honestly one of the sweetest things the demon had ever done.

It wasn’t until several days later, while doing some research, that Aziraphale learned that having a snake inside your home was also considered to be a good omen, its presence bringing wealth, good fortune and harmony.

He decided not to mention that to Crowley.


End file.
